The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1887-05-26
REV. DIR. TALMAGE.
THE BROOKLYN PASTORS SUN.
DAY SERMON
Subject; "From Twelve TO Three
O'clock"

TEXT; "Watehma,,, what Of the night ~
Isaiah xxi,
When night came down on Babylon, Nine
veh, and Jerusalem, they needed careful
watching, otherwise the incendiary's torch
might have been thrust into the very heart
of the metropolitan splcndor; or enemies,
marching from the hills, might have forced
the gates, All night long, on top of the wall
and in front of the gates, might be heard the
measured step of the Waterman ON his soil
tary beat; silence hung in the air, save as
some pasSer-by raised the question: watch
man, what of the night ~
1t is to me deeply suggestive and solemn
thing to see q man standing guard by night.
1t thrilled through me, as at the gate of an
arsenal in Charleston, the question once
smote me; "Who comes there!h followed
by the sharp commando advance and give
tho countersign" Every moral teacher
stands on picket, or patrols the wall as
Waterman. His work is to sound the alarm;
and whether it be in the first watch, in the
second watch, in the third watch, or in the
fourth watch, to be vigilant until the daybreak
filings its "morning glories" of blooming
cloud across the arching trellis of the sky
The ancents divided their night into four
parasitic first watch, from six to nine; the
second, from nine to twelve the third, from
twelve to three; and the fourth, from three
TO six.
speak now OF tne Guy Ill inc tullu WblCu,
Or from twelve to three O'Clock, at that sea-
son of the year when the days and nights are
about equal.
! never weary looking upon the life and
brilliancy of the city in the first watch. That
is the hour when the stores are closing. The
laborng men, having quilted the scatfolding
and the shop, are ON their way home. 1t
rejoices me to give them my seat in the city
car. They have stood and hammered away
all day. Their feet are weary, They are ex-
hausted with the tug of work. They are
mostly cheerful With appettes sharpened on
the swift turner's wheel and the carpenters
MILESTONE they seek the evening meal The
clerks, too, have broken away from the
counter and with brain weary of the long
line of figures, and the whims of those who go
a-shoppng seek the face Of mother, or wife
and child. The merchants are embarrassing
themselves from their anxietes on their way
up the street. The boys that lock up are
heaving away at the shutters, showing the
heavy bolts, and if it be winter taking last
look at the fire to see that all is safe. The
streets are thronged with young men, setting
out from the great centers of bargain
making.
Let oilers clear the street and give right OF
way to the besweated artisans and merchants.
They have earned their bread, and are now
on their way home to get it.
The lights in full jet hang over 10, 600 even
ing repasts-the parents at either end of the
table, the children between. Thank God,
'who setteth the solitary in families"
A few hours later and all the places OF
amusement, good and bad, are in full tide
Lovers of art, catalogue In hand, stroll
through the galleries AMI discuss the pictures
The ballroom is respondent with the rich APP
parel of those who, on either side of the white,
glistening boards, await the signal from the
orchestra. The footlightS of the theatre flash
up; the bell rings, and the curtain rises; and
out from the gorgeous scenery glide the actors
greeted with the vociferation of the expectant
multitudes Concert-hallS are lifted into en-
chantment with the MARBLE of one songstress,
or swept out on a sea of tumultuous feeling
by the blast of brazen instruments. Draw
ing-rooms are filed with all gracefulness OF
apparel, with all sweetness of sound, with all
splendor of manner; mirrors are catching up
and multiplying the scene, until it seems as il
in infinite corridors there were garlanded
groups advancing and retreating
The outdoor air rings with laughter, and
with the moving to and fro of thousands on
the great promenades. The dashing span
adrip with the foam of the long country ride,
rushes past as you halt at the curbstone.
Mirth, revelry, beauty, fashion, magnii,
cence minglo in the great metropolitan pic
ture, until the thinking man goes home to
think more seriously, and the praying man
to pray more earnestly.
A beautiful and overwhelming thing is the
city in the first and second watches of the
night
But the clock strikes twelve, and the third
watch has begun.
The thunder of the city has rolled out of the
air. The slightest sounds cut the night with
such distinction as to attract your attention.
The tinkling of the bell of the street car in
the distance, and the baying of the dog. The
stamp of horse in the next street. The
samring of saloon door. The hccough of
thu drunkard. The shrieks of the steam
whistle five miles away Oh, how suggestive,
my friends, the third watch of the night!
There are honest men passing up and down
the street Here is city missionary who has
been carrying scuttle of coal to that poor
family in that dark place. Here is an under
taker going up the steps of building from
which there comes bitter cry which indicates
that the destroying angel has smitten the
first born. Here is a minister of religion who
has been giving. the sacrament to dying
Christian. Here is a physician passing along
in great haste, the messenger few steps
ahead, hurrying on to the household.
Nearly all the lights have gone out in the
dwellings, for it is the third watch of the
night. That light in the window is the light
of the watcher, for the medicines must be ad
ministered, and the fever must be watched
and the restless tossing off of the coverlid
must be resisted, and the ice must be kept on
the hot temples, and the perpetual prayer
must go up from hearts soon to be broken.
y, the third watch of the night! What q
stupendous thought-a whole city at rest
weary arm preparing for to-morrows toll
Hot brain being cooled off. Rigid muscles
relaxed. Excited nerves soothed The white
hair of the octogenarian in thin drifts across
the pillow, fresh fall of flakes on snow already
fallen. Childhood with its dimpled hands
thrown out on the pillow and with every
breath taking in new store of fun and
frollc Third watch of the night! Gods
slumberless eye will look. Let one great wave
OF refreshing slumber roll over the heart of
the great town, submerging care, and anx
iety, and worriment, and pain.
Let the city Sleep But my friends, be no,
deceived. There will be thousands tonight
who will not sleep at ALL Go up that darl
alley, and be cautious where you tread, les
you fall over the PROSTATE form of drunk
ard lying on his own doorstep. Look about
you, lest you feel the garroter's hug. Loci
through the broken window-pane and Sc,
what you can see. You say: "Nothing.
Then listen. What is itl "Goc
help us |" No footlights, but tragedy
ghastlier. and mightier than Rstori Of
Edwin Booth ever, enacted. No light, nj
shivering in the cold, and they have had Mt
food for twentyfour hours. Yousay: "Wh,
don't they beg'" They do, but they ge
nothing You say: "Why don't the,
deliver themselves over to the almshousef
All you would not ask that if you ever heart
the bitter cry of a man or Il child when tolt
he must go to the almshouse.
"Oh," you say, "they are vicious poor, and
therefore, they do not deserve our sympathy
Are they viciousl So much more need they
your pity. The Christian poor, God help.
them Through their night there wrinkles
the round, merry star of hope, and through
the broken window-pane they see the crys
tails of heaven; but the vicious poor, they
are more to be pitied. Their last light ha.
gone out. You excuse yourself from helping
them by saying they areso bad, they brought
this trouble on themselves. | reply, where
give ten prayers for the innocent who are
suffering l will give twenty prayers for the
guilty who are suffering.
The fisherman, when he sees vessel dash
ing into the breakers, comes out from his hui
and wraps the warmest fannels around thos,
who are most chilled and most bruised ant
most battered in the wreck; and want you
to know that these vicious poor have had two
hipwrecks-shipwreck of the body, ship
wreck of the soul-shipwreck for time, ship
wreck for eternity. Pity, by all means, the
innocent who are suffering, but pity more
the guilty.
Pass on through the alley. Open the
door, oh" you say, it is lockedw No, il